I read Twyla Tharp's book "The Creative Habit" quite a few years ago. She posits the idea that to build yourself in your craft, you must practice that craft each and every day.
When I worked as an artist I had deadlines, orders, upcoming art shows. I was always in my studio and I created new work each and every day. I had to work at my art every day to grow my business and to keep up with the supply and demand.
Now, I focus my creative energy on writing. The supply and demand for writing is not the same. Perhaps this is due to the intangible nature of writing and literature? Not all philosophical pondering, such as this, requires a solution so much as action to move the craft forward.
Thinking back to Ms. Tharp I kicked off 2014 with a goal to write every day. As humans we require food every day. As a single mom, I am the one who provides that food for my family - every day. It seemed like a natural fit to write about our daily suppers in order to build the daily writing habit.
Then I was further challenged to cook 365 different meals. The argument went that people would bore of repeats - who wants to read that we had Grandma Dorothy's Kansas City Brisket - AGAIN? No one really.
So, cooking dinner feels at times like it is taking over my life. Planning what to cook. Procurement of what to cook. Actually cooking it. Photographing supper throughout the process and then when plated before anyone eats a bite. Writing about it.
There have been times when I lament about the process and the current futility. But my family encourages me to continue. I was asked what my goal was in all this? Of course to keep my family fed. But what else? What is the product of this daily work?
I thought a cook book would be in order. However between the internet and a quick search on Amazon, does the world need another cookbook? Not really.
So I keep cooking and feeding and photographing and writing. I think and formulate. A seed is growing as we progress through the year. Good things come to those who wait is the adage. I say, good things come to those who work their asses off.
Oh - tonight we had the leftovers of the Swedish Meatballs. Still delicious. Happy Sunday.